


stars and lightning (hold me tightly)

by louisfestival



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Feelings, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, POV Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Team as Family, set somewhere in early season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 01:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19241143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisfestival/pseuds/louisfestival
Summary: “I can’t remember the last time rain has felt like coming home.” Lance’s smile only grows. Something in Keith’s gut claws at him. Butterflies, maybe.Keith smiles back, his entire body and head of hair soaked with water from the sky above. He says the first thing that comes to mind, “Home suits you.”a drabble about the first time the paladins experience rain again after leaving earth. keith has a lot of feelings about it. as does lance.





	stars and lightning (hold me tightly)

**Author's Note:**

> rain and feelings of home.
> 
> the title is a line from cavetown’s song “hazel”
> 
> i hope you enjoy! :-)

After months, almost _six_ months of travel, they’ve finally reached a planet with regular rain showers.

Stepping off the castleship and onto the cool, rocky ground felt enormous. Everyone was used to scorching planets and unbreathable air until Allura mentioned a short stop at Xendir— a planet with an ecosystem that required constant rainfall.

Needless to say, Lance was ecstatic. It was apparent in the way his tired eyes grew wide at Allura’s words, eyebrows arching high on his face, mouth falling agape. He looked a bit breathless, and Keith felt himself grow second-hand giddy on Lance’s behalf.

Rain meant feeling closer to Earth, to home. Lance misses home. Lance misses the rain. These are facts that are well-known to everyone aboard the castleship.

Keith misses home too— just not in the same way that Lance does.

Keith misses quiet desert nights under the stars. Keith misses his dad’s old shack and the stupid knick-knacks cluttered everywhere— collected mugs and dusty records and a lot of leather boots. He misses his polaroid camera and his hover bike and the lizards that hide from the hot sun.

Lance misses his family, and Earth, and for sure a million other things that Keith has never known or had. Maybe will never know or have.

But missing Earth includes rain— something they all had taken for granted back before their space journey started. And Keith can’t deny that he sometimes dreams about cool pinpricks of water falling from the sky and the good kind of thunderstorms where he’d watch the sky turn purple from inside of the shack and feel the _boom_ in his chest.

When they fly downward into Xendir’s atmosphere, and feel the rush of water _plip_ harshly onto the surface of the ship, Keith watches everyone’s faces bloom into the same wonder of that of a child.

They touch ground and exit through the main deck, Lance racing ahead of everyone, feet flying on their own accord.

Keith hangs back, feeling a thrumming throughout his veins. He stands on the slope of the platform to walk down, covered by the overhanging exterior of the ship so he doesn’t get wet.

Allura and Coran are puzzled since they’ve never truly seen this type of Earthen rain— only Altea’s blazing and short-lived rock storms. They bask quietly in the grey clouds and cool temperature, taking turns watching their fingers become wet and looking at each other’s faces in wonderment and hesitant happiness.

Pidge and Hunk, after a moment of gazing in amazement at the sky, have begun laughing and cheering, stomping their feet in the rock puddles and running around, clothes becoming quickly soaked.

Shiro stands at the end of the ramp, right in the first touch of rain. Keith thinks about Shiro’s years in space, and how unlikely it must have felt for him to go home someday. He thinks about Shiro crash landing on Earth in an alien space pod, after surviving life as a prisoner of war, only to be thrust back into the belly of the beast. As a different type of soldier— the universe-saving kind.

He smiles to himself, eyes closed and shoulders relaxed. Keith watches him fondly, happy to have his brother feel close to home. Hopes, eventually, that he’ll make it back there with him.

But before Keith treks out to feel the rainfall for himself, he finds Lance in his own bubble. A rain bubble.

Lance is farther ahead of their group, crouched low to the ground, resting on his knees with his palms to the sky. His shoulders seem to be shaking slightly. Water cascades down his broad shoulders and back.

Without really thinking at all, Keith lurches forward, feet tugged out from under him and towards Lance.

He passes the others who bask in their own moments, barely registering Pidge and Hunk’s continued shouts of unburdened laughter.

Before getting a few feet close to Lance, he remembers the rain. He remembers Earth and desert storms and thunder and lightning. He feels the drops of water fall onto his face, block his vision slightly and stick to his bangs. It feels indescribably good. Incredibly human.

He walks next to Lance, who still sits on the ground. His knees are definitely wet.

Keith is sure Lance doesn’t care about that, though.

He sits down next to him, and it feels normal. It’s like his place is always next to Lance or always _should_ be next to Lance.

He watches Lance, who hasn’t really acknowledged Keith’s arrival next to him, and Keith should probably stop openly gazing at Lance’s face, but he can’t help it.

Lance looks enamored— like the rain saved his life and he’s deep in his mind echoing _thank you thank you thank you_ and maybe he _is_ saying that and feeling grateful. Keith very much is.

It’s calm. The sky is a blue-grey and it matches Lance’s eyes. There’s the clouds above them that stretch farther down the edge of the planet, which is a vastness of slate and hedges of grass here and there for miles and miles.

Keith realizes that maybe Lance had been crying to himself once he’d stepped out here. His eyes are red-rimmed and his shoulders have just barely stopped shaking, but the misleading factor is his incredulous smile. The disbelief that sits in the corners of his upturned lips.

Keith watches Lance and feels his chest ache for him. He watches the raindrops plop onto Lance’s tanned skin, brush the freckles of his cheeks, and run down his neck. His clothes are sopping wet and his hair is definitely going to be a mess of curls like how it is when he gets out of the showers and doesn’t dry it, but Keith doesn’t think Lance will even mind.

He’s all blue paladin essence. Guardian spirit of water and loyalty and peace.

Mirth trickles into Lance’s eyes as his chest rises and falls, and he turns his head finally to look at Keith, smile beaming.

“Nice of you to join me, Mullet.”

Keith huffs a laugh, the nickname having lost its heat awhile ago. He shoves his chin down into his chest when Lance looks directly at him, like it’s too much for him to handle right now; the way Lance looks like the happiest Keith has ever seen him. And it’s all being directed his way.

Overwhelming, honestly.

Keith wills himself to make eye contact even though the _blue blue blue_ of Lance’s irises make his stomach flip. “You look like you’re having a religious experience.”

Lance barks a laugh, throwing his head back and lingering in the position for a moment to stay underneath the direct spray of rain water before returning back to look at Keith. He’s glowing.

He looks ethereal.

“Maybe I am. I can’t remember the last time rain has felt like coming home.” Lance’s smile only grows. Something in Keith’s gut claws at him. Butterflies, maybe.

Keith smiles back, his entire body and head of hair soaked with water from the sky above. He says the first thing that comes to mind, “Home suits you.”

And maybe it’s the words or the way they fell out of his mouth so uncharacteristically softly and honestly, but Lance pauses, his eyebrows etching upward and pink lips dropping into slight surprise.

Keith flushes and swiftly turns his head up to the sky and the clouds instead of continuing to look at the boy next to him. Rain kisses his nose and cheeks. He feels a hand press onto his shoulder.

He turns his head back toward Lance, who moved his hand to lay on Keith in a reassuring gesture. He squeezes once, for a long amount of time, and something electric swirls in the mix of the cool air. He beams at Keith, drops his arm, and turns to look at the sky again.

Keith watches Lance again before mimicking his position. Head up, eyes closed. Peaceful.

They both watch the clouds and collect rain with their heads tilted upward.

And to himself, Keith wonders why would Lance have wanted to explore space when he looks like he belongs in the water?

.

It takes them hours to drag Lance inside. And Allura’s going to kill him for getting the furniture all wet, but they all know that Lance doesn’t care. He’s sitting on the couch in their main meeting room smiling softly to himself, towel shucked around his neck and his hair a mess of chestnut curls and resting damp at his nape. It’s frizzy, but his hair looks so soft and Keith feels his fingers twitch with the urge to run his hands through the bangs.

Lance is soggy and wet and should be more disgruntled than oddly serene, but Keith’s has never seen him this content ever since they’d arrived in space all those months ago.

They’re laying on the couch. Hunk, Shiro, and Pidge having left a while ago after they all came in from the rain to shower or at least get clean, warm clothes.

Keith’s there with Lance, who still has that happy grin on his face, lips curled up and eyes closed as he sighs at nothing in particular, relaxed against the couch cushions. Thinking reminiscent thoughts— probably. Missing Earth— definitely.

The room is bathed in blues from the storm outside, and no one’s bothered to adjust the lighting.

Keith breathes slowly. Rubs his thumb over the seam of his jeans.

It would be so easy. To press himself to Lance’s side and kiss the dampness of his cheeks.

He wonders if they’ll ever get to that level. Wonders if Lance will ever feel the same, even if their (one-sided) rivalry has melted into a fond comradery. They rib each other and get on the other’s nerves, but it doesn’t escalate more than that. And in-between the harmless verbal jabs, there’s questions like “are you okay?” and “want to stop at the kitchen for lunch with me?” and “I’m about to go to the training deck, want to spar with me?”

There’s also fond smiles and high-fives and arms thrown over shoulders. There’s compliments embedded into training lessons and there’s soft reassurances after a hard battle. There’s the lingering hands on shoulders— most recently the one in the rain. Keith thinks he can still feel Lance’s hand burning on his rain-soaked t-shirt.

Keith thinks, _knows_ , that Lance has changed him.

The whole team has. They’ve given him a found family that he’s never really had before. It’s protection and care and stupid inside jokes that Keith clings to like lifelines in the midst of the hardest times of this war.

But Lance?

Lance is loud and light. He’s always there in everyone’s space. He checks on each teammate's wellbeing— forcing Pidge to get some sleep after a night of her adjusting the programming of Green’s extensive cloaking skill, baking one of Hunk’s favorite apple crumble recipes (or something close enough to not seem too alien) with him to make him smile more, braiding Allura’s hair for one of her diplomatic outings and then happily doing it again and again each time when Allura comes to him bashfully asking for two braids “ _this_ time, please, Lonce.” He talks to Coran about Altea whenever they clean the pods. He works out with Shiro and goads him into meditation because it can help with trauma and stress.

He prods at Keith until Keith can’t help but fall forward, right into him.

Lance spars with him, in hand to hand combat routines that Keith guiltily can’t get enough of. He loves watching Lance improve in his offenses, and seeing him become prouder of himself the more he lands a punch on Keith or dodge’s one of Keith’s tripping methods.

Lance makes him eat in the kitchen with him and sings his favorite Spanish songs for him after Keith felt brave enough to ask him what he’d been humming the other day. His voice is airy and melodic, and Keith feels better allowing Lance to feel comfortable speaking his first language around him.

He has Lance talk about his family and his siblings and Varadero beach. He hears the stories Lance tells and pinpoints the longing that’s laced in his tone. He hopes Lance will see them soon.

Lance tells him casually one day that his mama would probably love Keith instantly, once she meets him, because Keith and her share “a weird affinity for pineapple pizza that Lance will never understand.”

Knowing that Lance sees a potential future where Keith meets his mom sets Keith on internal fire. He would love nothing more than to meet Lance’s family someday.

At some point, they started going to the exploration deck to stargaze in that melancholy midnight (or the Altean standard for midnight) state where all they can think about is where they are, and who they are.

The glass of the windows displays billions of stars and Keith always thinks the universe is too big for him.

His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth and his stomach quivered but he admitted quietly, “I haven’t had a home since before my dad died. And… I wonder if I’ll ever have another one someday.”

In space, Keith feels impossibly small. In a space _ship_ , Keith feels like the universe is his to explore. Like nothing else matters except for him and his hands on the controls and the vast opportunities of the stars ahead of him.

In a castle ship, though, he remembers he has these people that do care about him. He remembers the war laying squarely on their shoulders and the ugly evil on Zarkon’s face and the bond with Red being the piece that holds him together and he becomes overwhelmed.

It rushes out of him like water, and it splashes right into Lance’s lap. When he’s done and poured out, he’s left feeling a little barren and a lot emotional.

“Keith.”

Lance gazes at him, blue eyes burning and the look on his face causes Keith’s head to fog.

Lance breathes slowly out of his nose before continuing. He brushes his fingers over Keith’s knee on their cross-legged position on the ground. Outside, supernovas explode and they reflect in Lance’s pupils. Keith shivers.

“You’ll always have a home. With us.” He stares determinedly at Keith, nods with his words. “I know life here is different than Earth— believe me I _sure_ do know. But, we’re always here. For you. With you.” Lance pauses, looks down at their legs and smiles smugly, “As a good team.”

Keith, transfixed in Lance’s words, suddenly pauses and registers the old reference.

_Asshole._

“You do remember, jackass!”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“Bullshit, okay. Whatever.”

Keith playfully slaps Lance’s hand off of his knee and they both choke on their own laughter for a few moments.

“I’m not letting you get away with… _that._ But I—“ Keith falters, thrown back by Lance’s kindness. “I appreciate what you said. About belonging here.”

Lance just grins, a little more sleepily now. “I meant it.”

“All of it or just the ‘we are a good team’ reference?” Keith jokes.

Lance laughs fondly. Keith smiles.

“All of it. Even that.”

They watch the stars. Just like how they watched the rain-filled sky.

Keith currently struggles, on his position on the couch, feet away from a happy, rain-soaked Lance, to remain calm.

It’s a burning feeling— that twisting, pulling feeling in his gut that tells him he’s done for.

It’s a burst of hot light, cascading down the length of his spine and settling warm in his tailbone.

It’s a longing hidden beneath his skin and running rampant through his veins, swirling and pulsing in his blood and making his head dizzy.

It’s all so intense and blistering. Equally scarring in the best and worst way.

He knows he does this to _himself_. That it’s scorching and overwhelming because it’s so self-inflicted. In too deep.

That doesn’t stop him from doing it though.

 _It_ being… this _thing_ he feels for Lance.

Some would say it’s very red paladin-esque of him to use all the fire metaphors, but he’s just being _realistic_.

He doesn’t know how it started. The months ran by and suddenly he fell and couldn’t get out of his head or escape the thoughts that just kept whispering a desperate string of _Lance Lance Lance._

He’s incredible. He’s something Keith never saw coming in all of this.

Keith has never wanted anything this badly.

He watches Lance on the couch (christ, he’s always watching Lance) and _wants._

So he acts.

Impulse usually is his thing, after all.

Keith picks himself up off the far end of the couch and plops himself right next to Lance. Lance, with his arms behind his relaxed head, opens one eye to watch what Keith’s doing and he smiles slowly.

Feeling a bit, a _lot_ , awkward, Keith mimics Lance’s position and places his arms behind his head and melts back into the cushions. Their elbows touch. Lance doesn’t move as he watches Keith fumble to mirror him.

He laughs softly. “Again— nice of you to join me, Mullet.”

Keith just flusters, barely commits because Lance’s toothy grin is distracting him from his goal, but he wills himself to just—

Go for it.

In one second, one tick of time, Keith launches himself into Lance’s bubble to peck him once on the cheek, before returning back to his position. Keith crosses his arms behind his head again and schools his features into something he thinks looks unbothered.

His red cheeks give him away, though.

Lance, still in the same position, looks incredibly flushed and gives out a helpless squeak when he realizes what just happened. No longer relaxed or composed, Lance’s jaw has dropped comically wide open and his ears burn.

Keith peaks at him and his heart beats rapidly, taking in Lance’s flustered appearance and internally gloating.

_Hah. Nice. I did that._

Suddenly, Lance sits up and dramatically turns his body toward Keith. His eyes are wide and his skin is flushed red. Heat flows between them. Like the air that crackles before the first strike of lighting.

Burning blue meets a smokey violet before the thunder claps and then Keith has a lap-full of Lance.

When their lips collide, it’s fiery and long-awaited. Lance grips Keith’s waist and shoulders and Keith digs his hands straight away in Lance’s hair. Lance’s curls are still damp and Keith doesn’t have to imagine himself twisting his fingers into it anymore because he does it right then.

The kiss is soft and unyielding and everything more than Keith has ever let himself imagine. Lance kisses him slowly, with so much heat that Keith feels himself melt back into the couch. Keith tugs on Lance’s bottom lip and Lance lets out a small sound and Keith wants to do that again and again and again. He cups Lance’s chin and caresses his jaw. Lance peppers his lips in little smiley pecks.

They break apart every so often to gasp wetly and grin and clunk their teeth together until they’re laughing and kissing random corners of each other’s lips and cheeks and foreheads and noses.

After an eternity, they collapse into each other. Lance nuzzles his nose and chin into the skin of Keith’s neck. He’s so warm even with their wet clothes. Keith presses his face into Lance’s soft hair and breathes and can’t stop smiling.

They wrap their arms around each other- Keith’s over Lance’s shoulders and Lance clinging to Keith’s waist like a koala.

Lance tilts his head up to look at Keith and they gaze at each other, smiles lazy and warm.

“I’ve been waiting for that for so long.”

“Why didn’t you kiss me first then, huh?”

Lance laughs and Keith’s grin (somehow) widens even more. “Was seeing how far I could push you.”

Keith hums and kisses the top of his head. He can’t believe this is real.

“I feel like you won’t ever really stop pushing me.”

Lance raises an eyebrow.

Keith says teasingly, “Pushing my buttons.”

Lance chuckles. “Easy, hotshot, you’re right about that one.”

They hold each other and softly giggle. The happiness swims in their veins.

“I like you a lot, Keith.”

“It’s very mutual, Lance.”

“That cheek kiss was kind of embarrassing for you.”

Keith swats his shoulders and Lance lets out a bark of laughter. Lance always laughs with his whole face. Keith loves it. He loves the scrunch of his nose and the twist of his lips. Loves the sound of Lance’s voice. Always will.

“I set you up to kiss me for real, so who really won here?”

Lance looks at him, says, “Both of us did,” and Keith’s heart pounds.

He answers him by squeezing Lance tighter and burrows his face back onto his head.

Keith, overcome with his overflowing feelings, stammers, “You’re— Lance, you’re my home.”

Lance squeezes him, kisses his cheek, and whispers back, “And you’re mine.”

And the rain continues to pour down, beating softly onto the ship and keeping the comfort steady and full.

If Keith ever gets to go back to Earth, it’s reassuring to know that he’s bringing his real home with him.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i’m a sucker for finding a home in another person. kudos and comments are appreciated! xx


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